nd what did I get?" He was
blubbering now. "Oh, I tried, I tried! Appropriations and all that;
you may be sure we lined our pockets--but after years of stalling,
they showed up with two weapons they swore were terrible enough to put
an end to war. One of them was a water pistol."

"I see," said Brad. "And the other?"

"A ray gun."

Brad's eyes brightened. "A ray gun? May I see how it works?"

"Indeed you may!"

A platoon of maroon dragoons dragged in a queer apparatus. It looked
like a medieval cannon, with a Victorian phonograph speaker flaring
from its business end. The dragoons ranged around the weapon, keeping
their backs to it. One of them clutched the firing lanyard. There was
a pause, a brittle silence--then the lanyard snapped!

"'_Ray!_'" shouted the ray gun.

"What was that?" asked Brad.

Twice more the lanyard snapped. The ray gun boomed: "'_Ray! Ray!_'"

"You mean all it does is shout '_Ray_?'" asked Brad.

"Well, it can also shout '_Max_'," said the old man. "Fearful, ain't
it?"

"Yes," said Brad. He took a piece of old parchment from a breast
pocket. "This," he stated, "is the original deed to Manhattan. Notice
here on the bottom where it says $24. I am signing it over to you." He
signed with a flourish. "Now you have a legal claim, a crusade, and a
nice piece of property. Go get it!"

"But the headaches!" cried the old man.

"Cool, man, cool!" said Brad. "I'll mix a Bromo."

"Is it habit-forming?" cried the High Kruv.

"Not a bit," said Brad, mixing it. "Simply take one an hour, forever.
And now I must bid you farewell."

"Wait!" cried the Kruv. "Don't you want to take my lovely daughter
back with you?"

Brad looked at her. She was lovely. She had scales, but she was
lovely. She had magnificent blonde hair, some of it almost an inch
long, none of it on her head, but she was lovely.

"... Well," said Brad, hesitatingly. He had his eyes glued on her;
when he took them off, they made a noise like vacuum cups:
"_Pfffopp!_"

"Your mother won't like her," whispered Ugh.

"... Well," said Brad. He could feel Duty tugging inside. Not for him
the pipe and slippers. He was one of spaceway's men; he would go the
spacemen's way, off into waymen's space. Waymen, not women, he told
himself sternly. The call of the Ether ... the vacuous void ... the
black velvet wastes ... the outspread cloak of the universe, dripping
with stardust ... the undreamt-of galaxies ... these were the things
by whi